


Wilder Mind

by akhikosanada



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: DAICHI/IWA CHAN BROSHIP, Fluff, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, Mentions of Sexual stuff, Slice of Life, Slow Build, Underage Drinking, also kuroo bokuto daichi and iwa-chan share a dorm, cinema major Bokuto, cinema major Kuroo, history majors Daichi and Iwaizumi, idk whats the required age in japan but since here it's 18 i guess it doesnt really count?, kuroo and bokuto being BEST BROS, mentions of past daisuga, mentions of past kuroyaku, so much pining too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-11
Updated: 2015-10-11
Packaged: 2018-04-25 22:26:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4978897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akhikosanada/pseuds/akhikosanada
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“’Careful, Sawamura. Kuroo's rubbing off on you.’<br/>Daichi thinks back of sharp golden eyes and cunning smirks, of deft lean fingers holding a camera and warmth seeping out of skin at night, of wild hair and wilder mind.<br/>‘I kinda hope he does, actually.’”</p><p>A story of love, loss, and finding home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wilder Mind

**Author's Note:**

> What the fuck. I just wanted to write some cute fluff. I’m ending up writing a 20k word monster fic. WHY.
> 
> Anyway, this is a college AU, and there’s plenty of side Bokuaka and Iwaoi, as well as mentions of past Daisuga because i still cannot imagine Daichi not liking Suga before he falls for Kuroo lmao. I think this fic is pretty trigger-free, although there are some mentions of alcohol since they’re in college and partying like college students should. This is my first fic for the Haikyuu!! fandom, so I hope you’ll like it! Also, I’m not a native English speaker, so if you see any mistakes, just shoot a comment!
> 
> This fic was written while i listened to the last Mumford and Sons album on repeat, and so its title shares the one of my favorite song.

Daichi already has mixed feelings about university.

On the one hand, he had finally convinced his parents to let him attend his dream university in Tokyo, the one with all the interesting classes and the great teachers and the pretty decent volleyball team. On the other hand, he had to leave his family and friends in Miyagi, even though he had promised Asahi and Suga to Skype once in a while, and he had discovered pretty soon that there was no campus, so he had to get a flat in a student residence. He wonders back to why exactly he hasn't applied to the school back there with the awesome campus where there even was a  _cinema_ , only to remember that this is the school where both Oikawa and Ushijima have applied, and he doesn't think he would survive a year in their company without murdering anyone.

He also may or may not chuckle to himself because obviously neither Oikawa nor Ushijima knew they were going to the same college, and he would give everything to record Oikawa's face on camera when he would see his long-time rival on the same volleyball team. The thought brings nostalgic memories of one certain oddball duo and their very first meeting a year ago, but he dares not dwell on it – he still is very conscious of the lack of presence, of the  _gap_  he's leaving behind back in Karasuno, warm and reliable and Daichi-shaped, and the wound his departure left on his mind is way too fresh and way too open for him to rub salt in it.

He chooses to glance back to the few boxes he's brought with him, and already sighs at the perspective of the three stories to climb – because of course Daichi would choose one of the only residences where there was no lift, it had seemed a good idea at the time, claiming to Suga it would help him maintain an “healthy lifestyle”, Suga sighing because he knew even before Daichi had told him, like he always did, like he would still do even miles apart– he grabs the first box and busies his mind with thoughts of hurting thighs and back.

 

*

 

Daichi sets the last of his required readings on the shelf before collapsing on the bed.

The room is actually quite nice: he's at the very end of the corridor, and so has in front of his bed a French window with a little balcony, small but still big enough to host a table and two chairs just in case he chose to eat outside when the days would grow warmer; the small table and the chairs are currently folded against a wall next to a desk, under which a mini-fridge is tucked in case he wants to keep drinks in his room. A closet stands against the bathroom wall, because luckily the residence provides no lift but a small bathroom inside each bedroom, and Daichi will remind himself to thank whatever deity for small graces tonight when he'll be able to walk around his room in just a towel before going to bed. His laptop is tidily waiting on the desk for some music to be played, some volleyball posters as well as a few photos hang on the wall above his bed, his clothes are half-folded half-shoved into the open closet – still, Daichi wonders what he could do to make this place feel more like home.

It isn't as if any of his friends have followed him to the capital, where they could have got a flat together, and maybe he had actually ran the idea by Suga and Asahi, but Suga had replied in that careful, kind way of his that it might be good for them to set some  _distance_  at least for the first couple of their college years, and the word had rung hollow but Suga's voice had been firm. It wasn't as if things had been unclear between them – they had both decided to break things off after realizing they would be better as friends, and of course Suga was right, but it still would have soothed Daichi's mind to have a supportive presence around, someone who truly knew him.

Just as the thought leaves his mind, he's startled by what sounds like glass crashing on someone's floor next to him, followed by a high-pitched screech that he immediately recognizes but hopes to hell and back he guessed wrong – and nope, there he is, as Daichi steps into the hallway, in all his hyperactive glory–

“Sawamura, oh my god, my man, my  _brother_ , you have to help m–“

“Okay, first of all, since when have I been any of those things, Bokuto? And second of all, what are you doing here?”

“What do you  _think_  I'm doing?” the former Fukurodani captain replies, and Daichi is almost surprised the guy actually  _is_  capable of sarcasm. “And what are  _you_  doing here?!”

“I asked you first.”

“I asked you second.”

Daichi sighs as he glances down the clumsily taped boxes which certainly contain Bokuto's belongings. “Come on, don't stand there, I'll help you settle.”

During the thirty minutes and almost two other broken glasses it takes for Daichi to help Bokuto, he learns quite a few things, the first being that Bokuto actually will go to Daichi's college as a cinema major – his ex-teammate and pretty obvious crush Akaashi had mentioned one day he wanted to become a cameraman, and Bokuto had apparently just figured he would himself apply to a Bachelor in cinema first, so that he could follow him or whatever twisted idea Bokuto had of romanticism. As simple as Daichi sometimes found the guy, he has to admit he is however quite an amazing volleyball player, and Daichi almost anticipates their first practice together. The second, less pleasant thing that Daichi learns, is that a certain Kuroo Tetsurou has also applied to the same college as Bokuto.

It does make sense, Daichi thinks, since Bokuto and Kuroo have been best friends for a long time, and it even makes sense that Kuroo would also be a cinema major, because according to Bokuto it's perfectly normal behavior for two best friends to take the same classes even in college – Daichi suddenly imagines himself as a Literature major like Suga or as an Economics major like Asahi, and he almost bursts out laughing; still, the thought of Kuroo delicately handling a camera sits alien on his mind as he remembers the few times they've spent weekends together on training camps and the only word that comes to him to describe the guy is “dork”. Kuroo going to the same university also means practicing with Kuroo, and he doesn't think he'll be able to handle it without murdering the guy by drowning him in the locker room showers – suddenly the thought of watching Oikawa fight with an oblivious Ushijima seems a lot more entertaining. Maybe he could switch schools after all.

“And you, Sawamura? What's your major?” Bokuto asks, handing him a cool can of coke.

“History.”

“Hmm. Suits you, I guess.” The guy shrugs.

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“I don't know, they say that all History majors want to become teachers, right? And I could definitely see you as a teacher.”

“You do know that it's not the only job History majors can get, right?” Daichi says defensively.

“Hey, it was a compliment, man!” Bokuto grins happily. On training camps, Bokuto had reminded Daichi of a bigger Hinata. He's secretly kind of glad Bokuto is his neighbor, even though he'd never admit it to his face; a familiar face was better than a stranger, at least.

“Sawamura never was one to take compliments anyway, bro.”

Daichi's eyes dart behind him, where a tall, dark figure has propped himself against the wall, lazy grin and sharp eyes trained on him – almost approvingly, if Daichi dares think so.

“Is it me, or did your hair become worse than the last time I saw you?” Daichi retorts, his grin matching Kuroo's.

“In my defense, I did wake up only three hours ago.”

Then Bokuto takes a running start and jumps into his arms, and Kuroo topples unceremoniously to fall flat on the ground.

“BRO, OH MY GOD IT'S BEEN WAY TOO LONG–“

“It's been three days, Bokuto.”

“Also I may or may not have broken that owl mug you gave me for my birthday.”

Kuroo actually hugs Bokuto back, and Daichi almost has the feeling of intruding, if Kuroo didn't roll his eyes for him to see before grinning knowingly.

“You can ask Akaashi to buy you a new one.”

Daichi snorts.

“Okay, that's actually really mean, Kuroo,” Bokuto says while getting back up. “You know I won't see him until  _at least_  a month.” Daichi would have sworn he saw that hair of his flatten a little at the thought.

“Fancy meeting you here, Sawamura. What brings you to our humble dorm?” Kuroo is now almost draped over the floor like a cat, and Daichi has the urge to laugh. He chooses to stay completely stoic instead, or Kuroo will never let him hear the end of it.

“I live here, actually.” He points to his own door, and Kuroo's eyes widen slightly.

“Do you now? That means we'll be neighbors.” That insufferable grin is back on Kuroo's face, and Daichi almost slaps himself when he catches the word  _handsome_  cross his mind. This is  _not_  happening. He had thought it once, or twice, or a few times, before he and Suga dated, mainly during training camps, but it had never went further than that, and Daichi intends it to stay that way.

“I'm already regretting this.”

 

*

 

Daichi does regret the way Bokuto's loud pop songs always wake him up earlier than intended, since the walls are so thin, and he does regret how both Kuroo and Bokuto steal him food when he makes himself something in their floor's communal kitchen, as well as he does regret the two of them crashing into his room uninvited the first few nights because “they felt alone”.

He does not regret, however, how on the first day of college the three of them walked there together, none of them speaking, anxious and filled with adrenaline, the perspective of a new life filling the already comfortable silence with musings about future classes and teachers and volleyball team; nor does he regret finding out that Kuroo has enrolled into one of his history classes as a supplementary course; nor does he regret following Bokuto running around the university, eager to discover every nook and cranny of the different buildings, while Kuroo pondered aloud which camera they could buy and whether they could buy one for the two of them, clearly excited about his classes.

But the thing Daichi regrets the least is Iwaizumi Hajime.

He discovers that the guy has enrolled to a different college than his long-time best friend Oikawa when he shows up late to Daichi's first class, and then catches him at the end of said class with what he hopes is a reassuring smile on his face; Iwaizumi actually seems relieved to see a familiar face, and Daichi is reminded of himself a week ago when he had met Bokuto in their dorm. He learns that Iwaizumi and Oikawa have gone to different universities mostly by accident and a lack of communication, which Daichi thinks strange but decides not to pry on; and Iwaizumi always had good grades in History, so might as well pick it as a major, while Oikawa himself has apparently applied to a Bachelor in Marketing.

Later, when both Daichi and Iwaizumi enter the volleyball gym, Kuroo and Bokuto watch with comically round eyes, before jumping over to them, Kuroo taking out his phone for an impromptu selfie, caption “Look who we've found ;)”, sent over to “Grand Queen *crown emoji*”, which prompts an almost immediate “Don't you dare defile Iwa-chan!!”.

Mostly, Daichi is quite content that night after their first practice: they've been too lazy to cook something, and have ended up on Kuroo's convertible couch watching a shitty action movie with one pizza each, everyone stealing slices from the others and none of them minding the least, Bokuto actually screaming and pumping his fist in the air to the rhythm of the soundtracks, Iwaizumi criticizing every minute inconsistency and the actual stupidity of the plot and the poor character development like  _he_  is the cinema major, Kuroo and Daichi stealing knowing glances and smirking when at the end the two others start arguing over whether it was the best film ever or the poorest excuse for broadcasting fake explosions and shallow slow-motions ever made,  _I would know I watched every shitty alien movie Oikawa forced me to and none were as shitty as this one_ , Bokuto dramatically putting a hand on his forehead and claiming Iwaizumi doesn't understand real art. Daichi actually snapchats the whole thing to Suga, since Kuroo has forced him to download the app because  _My goal this year will be to make you laugh during one of your classes, Sawamura_ , Kuroo had said with this attractive grin of his.

Once everyone is back in their respective bedrooms, he receives Suga's answer, a simple selfie saying they remind him of Hinata and Kageyama, and the strain in Daichi's heart tells him no, this may be much better.

 

*

 

Three weeks into university, they're roped into a college-wide Freshmen welcome party.

Actually, Bokuto is roped in by some frat guys he meets at the cafeteria and who hand him a flyer, who in turn has roped in Kuroo with the promise of strip poker and people to score with, and apparently Kuroo always wins at strip poker, as he challenges Daichi while stretching one day after practice, and Daichi figures Iwaizumi would tag along just to rub in Oikawa's face the fact that he  does have a social life without him. The program of the night is apparently something along the lines of “sacrificing the Freshmen to the Sun God”, which is in turn the name the college students give the cheap tequila sunrise they serve in buckets and force them to empty in one go.

“You don't understand, apparently last time someone played beer pong with his dick,” Bokuto  mentions on their way back to the dorm.

“That guy is my  _king_ ,” Kuroo adds dramatically. “Fortunately, I definitely won't be the one who'll have to strip naked between the four of us.”

“Famous last words.” Daichi snickers.

“You're hellbent on this strip poker, aren't you?” Iwaizumi sighs.

“Are you kidding? I'm pretty sure every freshman here already wants a piece of this,” Kuroo smirks as he lifts his t-shirt from his stomach, and Daichi has to avert his eyes when he catches a flash of dark hair going down Kuroo's sweatpants, low on his hips. “I'll be like the spider of false hope, spinning a web of lies until they get caught and lose all dignity.”

“You're not scaring anyone, you know.”

“Sorry, bro, but I have to agree with him on this.”

“Trust me, once you've seen Oikawa wasted, nothing scares you anymore.”

 

That night, before they leave, Kuroo insists that as the perfect angel he is ( _I'm always this kind_ , he says to a sceptic Daichi and a downright suspicious Iwaizumi), he'll help them dress so that they would have enough clothes to strip from in case the strip poker goes awry for them, to which all of them, even Bokuto, retort that they're not  _forced_  to play, are they, and they realize that Kuroo already signed them all up on the strip poker tournament list so they can't back out of this. Daichi promises to drown him into the tequila sunrise bucket the minute they get into the frat building before he's handed a large tank top with a picture of a goofy-looking dog, and Kuroo directs him to wear it under his t-shirt which he will wear under his button-up – Daichi is pretty sure he'll be way too hot under all those clothes and will strip to his t-shirt whatever happens. Bokuto is prompted to wear a pair of leggings under his jeans as well as three boxers, and Iwaizumi dons a woolen scarf over a grey sweater, plus a belt for his pants.

“You sure you want to wear only this, Kuroo?” Bokuto asks as he raises his eyebrow.

Daichi's eyes travel from Kuroo's biker boots up his thin but strong legs, hugged in grey skinny jeans, to his black tank top and black fake-leather jacket, and he cannot help but think that black suits Kuroo, like he's a shadow hidden in darkness that you can see only because he allows you to, the very image of nonchalance and deceit and mystery – and he truly is none of those things, of course, but it's a damn good façade.

Kuroo merely shrugs for an answer, the tiniest grin of certain victory gracing his face.

 

It therefore comes as a surprise to everyone when, later that night, Kuroo faces Daichi in nothing but his boxers, looking positively mortified.

Daichi's smirk reeks of superiority: he only lost his button-up, and mainly on purpose because he was growing way too hot. Bokuto is now naked and long gone, probably to fetch Kuroo a drink but obviously having forgotten to come back, or maybe someone has stopped him and jumped him on the beer pong table, who knows, it wasn't as if Bokuto had any shame to begin with. Iwaizumi stands proudly next to Daichi, also in his boxers, but with far more dignity than their resident middle-blocker, drunkenly cheering on him to beat the hell out of Kuroo and snapping as many pictures as he can with his phone – Daichi is pretty sure Oikawa will post some on Facebook tomorrow just to rile Kuroo up.

“How come you're so damn good at this, Sawamura,” Kuroo groans, and in his half-drunken smugness Daichi actually finds this incredibly sexy.

“I used to play against Suga. I learnt from the best.” They finish betting – Daichi bets one of Bokuto's three boxers and Kuroo bets the scarf he made Iwaizumi give to him in exchange for a drink and doing his laundry next week – before the card dealer returns three cards, and Daichi already has two pairs. This is going to be an absolute slaughter.

“Hey, if I lose, how about we stop here and just get some drinks?”, Kuroo whispers across the table. “I really, really don't mind getting naked in front of you, but I fear people would start to get jealous of my perfect butt–“

“Are you trying to bribe your way out of this?”

“Okay, you got me, please don't let me end up naked. This is humiliating enough.” Kuroo passes a hand through his hair while glancing around to the crowd of people who came to watch their final showdown. Daichi figures he should congratulate Kuroo: he actually held his own until it was just the two of them. He just was unlucky enough to face Sawamura Daichi at cards.

They check, but Daichi, drunk on victory, is feeling a little cheeky. “And what do I get in exchange?”

“A drink. And me writing your next paper in Western History.”

“I have way better grades than you.”

“Your laundry for a week – scratch that, for  _two_  weeks.” Another card, still two pairs. “Me bringing you breakfast in bed every day for a month. Me allowing you to borrow my extensive DVD collection to watch on your laptop. Me doing body shots off of Bokuto – and Iwaizumi allowed to take pics.” Check. Another card. “A kiss.”

Daichi is way too tempted to stop him here, but retains enough self-control to not even glance up. “Ugh. I tried. I don't know, Sawamura.  _Please_  don't let me end up naked.”

He glances up this time, and Kuroo is white as a sheet. He grins.

“You drinking a whole bucket of Sun God. In one go.”

Kuroo gives him a pained grin. Daichi knows he has already drunk a lot, and just hopes he won't have to clean up Kuroo's puke or something tomorrow when they wake up. “You're  _evil_ , Sawamura Daichi. Deal.”

“Full house,” Daichi announces with his most pleasant smile.

 

When they all go back to the dorm at 6am, Bokuto is still half-naked in the street, Iwaizumi films the whole thing, and Daichi helps Kuroo walk by holding his arm over his shoulders, hand on his waist. The sun is barely rising, painting the sky in a lighter shade of indigo every minute. The frat house is almost thirty minutes away from their building, but on Sundays there are no buses to their neighborhood that early in the morning, and the few people who pass them seem to be busy businessmen going to work or wasted students like them walking back to their own houses. The way back is peaceful, Daichi thinks, filled with Bokuto's storytelling of his nightly antics and Iwaizumi's laughter, Kuroo and himself following quietly as the middle-blocker is on the verge of falling asleep right where he stands if it wasn't for Daichi poking him in the ribs to keep him awake. The sky turns navy blue as they walk along the path, cherry blossom petals flying past them and striping the sky with purple hues, and Daichi finds out that early morning is the time he loves the most. He almost feels like Kuroo read his thoughts when he asks everyone if they want to watch the sunrise together.

And so they manage to reach the dorm as the sky turns pinkish, the four of them squeezing on Daichi's tiny balcony, and he hopes none of them is going to fall off in drunken clumsiness. The sky is mostly clear, except for some white clouds turning bright orange as the sun slowly rises, and he's reminded of Hinata's hair but it doesn't hurt as much as before. Kuroo's head is pressed against the wall as support, but when Daichi looks over, the only thing he sees is the sky lighting his amber eyes in a golden fire. He doesn't feel like looking away, instead watching the sky clearing through Kuroo's eyes. He doesn't know how much time passes until Kuroo looks back – maybe hours, maybe seconds – but when he does, he seems almost dazed, circles of tiredness already drawn like charcoal under his eyes soft like molten gold– Daichi averts his gaze up to the sky to see a bright red sun starting to rise.

Just before he falls asleep, something like fifteen minutes later, he lets his mind wander, and the last thing he remembers thinking is how the neon lights of the party imprint sparks of green and red and blue behind his eyelids, how the cherry blossoms spot the dark skies with deep violet and light pink, and how Kuroo Tetsurou's eyes are gold in the sunrise.

 

*

 

A month in, Kuroo starts filming them.

It's nothing at first: he takes some shots of the other three walking to college, vapor seeping out of their takeaway coffees, cherry blossom petals blown away by the cool spring breeze. He then starts filming them at almost every occasion, cooking together in the kitchen, laughing while watching a movie, drinking a beer absentmindedly at the pub down their street. Most of all, he shoots details, Daichi notices one day: a hand playing with a pen, a stray strand of hair tucked behind an ear, a furrow of eyebrows or a bite of lips. Daichi notices because one day, he catches Kuroo reviewing his shots on his computer, his own brow furrowed and his own teeth biting his lip and his own hand playing with his hair. He has headphones on, and doesn't hear Daichi come in; Daichi looks over to the small shelf near his door, takes his camera, and turns it on. It appears that Kuroo does all of his exposure settings himself, because the screen is quite dark; still, the computer lights up enough of his face for Daichi to film, Kuroo's expression a strange mix of seriousness and softness he rarely saw on him before as he watches what seems to be Daichi himself rolling his eyes at Bokuto's antics and wild gestures. Then Kuroo smiles, a tiny fond smile, and Daichi's breath catches a little.

It's weird to him that Kuroo's head shoots up to his small intake of air, before sharp, dark eyes turn to him, wide and surprised like a startled cat, and as if he hasn't already done enough unusual things, Kuroo starts flushing a deep crimson, embellished by the white computer light, making it almost magenta in the dark.

“S-Sawamura, what the actual fuck!” Kuroo jumps over and takes the camera from his hands, the very embodiment of embarrassment, and Daichi laughs heartily because god, Kuroo was maybe the most adorable he's ever been and this is excellent blackmailing material, or that's what he tells himself. He still can't quite figure out whether his attraction to the guy is the result of their night's drunkenness or a legitimate feeling, and he's not sure he wants to be bothered with figuring this out. Instead, he crosses his arms and gives Kuroo his most disarming smile.

“It's payback for you filming us all the damn time. Are we even interesting?”

Kuroo raises an eyebrow as if he cannot believe Daichi is even asking that question, before turning back to his screen.

“It's for an assignment. The theme is 'little things'. I think Bokuto plans to film some ants.”

Daichi snorts, which is enough for the other to show his trademark grin once again.

“And what are you going to do with those?” Daichi asks as Kuroo makes room on the couch for him to sit, and he tries not to wonder about how their thighs are barely brushing.

“Still wondering. Probably gonna mash them all together in a video and throw some music on top of it. It doesn't yet tell a story, but it wasn't what the assignment was about anyway.”

“You'll show us the end result, right?”

“Depends if I can erase if from your memory just after,” Kuroo snickers in self-deprecation.

“Don't throw yourself under the bus like that. I'm pretty sure you're worth more than what you're saying.”

Kuroo's eyes glance up at that, the remnants of his blush still warming his face with a light pink glow – everything about Kuroo seems to glow nowadays, Daichi wonders.

“Coming from you, this is very much appreciated,” and there is but little sarcasm in his voice, as well as a hint of true gratefulness. Daichi smiles as an answer, before stepping out to finish his own homework.

A week or so later, the four of them watch Bokuto's video, who surprisingly chose to do something deep and film the tiny things you can find while walking on the pavement – crushed cigarette butts, pennies, torn subway tickets, torn couple pictures, crumbs and feathers and blood. But Kuroo's video is the one they ask to keep on their own computers, a whole week of memories compiled to some English music Daichi doesn't know, a song as inspiring as it is melancholic, and which seems to tell their own story, a story of inevitable loss and uncharted paths and new beginnings.

(He laughs when he sees that Kuroo included the footage Daichi shot of him in the final video.)

 

*

 

The first Skype call he receives from Suga and Asahi is incidentally the same day that Kozume and Akaashi visit his “roommates”, as Bokuto now calls them ( _That's because there's only eight of us on this floor, and we almost never see the four others, so it's as if we live together, right?_  He justifies whenever someone asks). And of course, when Akaashi and Bokuto end up passing by to say hello, Suga drags them into the discussion, and the five of them find themselves chatting idly to the rhythm of Bokuto's obnoxious laughter. Daichi's glad to hear that both Suga and Asahi are alright, and that they often see the rest of the Karasuno team.

“Ennoshita-kun is  _perfect_  as a captain, not as good as you, obviously, but he has that stare that he gives the first– whoops, the  _second_ -years, that's almost as scary as yours”, Suga snickers like the proud mom he is. “Noya does a fine job as vice-captain, Tanaka is... still Tanaka”, and Daichi can feel both exhaustion and relief in his voice.

“I'm glad they're all alright”, Daichi confesses, because he truly got worried the former first-years would tear each other's throats as soon as the three of them closed the gym door one last time.

“Noya has made his goal this year to make Tsukishima open up a little,” Asahi smiles fondly. “Apparently, Yamaguchi found himself in Yachi's class, and they've become really good friends too.”

“Yeah, Hinata-kun even told me that there's  _rumors_ ”, and Suga takes that hushed but excited tone he only gets when he's gossiping, “that they're dating.”

Daichi breaks into laughter under the confused gaze of Bokuto and Akaashi, and Suga follows him heartily while Asahi only cards his hand into his longer hair, loose about his shoulders.

“Oh my god, I'm sure Yachi is even more scared than that time Kageyama asked her to teach him how to draw.” Their laughter only grows louder, and Suga wipes tears out of his eyes.

“Man, I miss Hinata,” Bokuto tells them suddenly. “Say, Akaashi, do you think there's a way to include Karasuno in your next training camp again?”

Sharp green eyes flicker between him and the screen. “Hm, I guess it isn't impossible. I'll have to ask the coaches, as well as Kenma.”

“Isn't he only Nekoma's vice-captain though?”

“He's way more... accessible than Yamamoto,” Akaashi sighs painfully, and Daichi doesn't even want to ask.

“Do you think we could ask now?” Bokuto jumps excitedly in front of Daichi's computer. “I bet Kuroo will be okay with that!”

“Oh, is he here?” Suga asks curiously, before smiling innocently. “Are they dating?”

Daichi's head makes a 90-degrees turn towards the screen. “Oh my god, Suga, you don't ask things like th–“

“Whaaaaat? Nah, not at all,” Bokuto answers with a grin. “Kuroo's  _way_  too much into–“

Daichi didn't think he would ever see Akaashi riled-up before, but there it is: he's clasping a hand on Bokuto's mouth, a graceful frown on his otherwise bewildered face. “Bokuto-san, you can't just  _tell_  those things, you know.” Bokuto looks as if he's ascended to heaven as he slowly nods, and Daichi thinks he can see a hint of a blush on his nose. Akaashi removes his hand with suspicion in his eyes, but still half-drags Bokuto to go and fetch Kozume.

Daichi then realizes, as Suga starts talking about classes and campus, that he would have liked to hear who exactly Kuroo was into. He also feels what may be a tiny hint of relief to know that Kuroo's not already dating his childhood friend, since it's exactly what's apparently happening with Iwaizumi – Bokuto had actually wound up way more perceptive than it appeared, since he was the one dragging two confused Kuroo and Daichi in the kitchen to ask them if they knew anything about it. It had happened a few days ago, when Oikawa had called Iwaizumi just after his practice as the four of them were having dinner in a nearby ramen shop, and Ushijima had been heard asking Oikawa if he wanted to eat out, which had sent Oikawa in a mad rant about what a drag “Ushiwaka-chan” was and how hard it was to make him socialize. Iwaizumi had been in an incredibly bad mood the rest of the night. Kuroo, Bokuto, and Daichi then spent almost thirty minutes planning an intervention about his obvious crush, which they still hadn't had time to do because of, well, Akaashi and Kozume.

“You're not listening, are you, Daichi?” Suga says softly, without a hint of anger in his voice. Daichi looks back at the screen and sees both Suga and Asahi watching him with fond smiles on their faces.

“I'm sorry, I was wondering about something. What were you saying?”

“That even though Asahi would never tell you because he's too shy and scared, we both miss you a lot. When are you planning to come visit?”

“I already told my parents I'd come back in July. I don't think I'll have time to come before that, college is a mess.”

“We can see that,” Suga snarks. “Aren't Bokuto and Kuroo a handful?”

Daichi hums. “They're actually quite alright. Bokuto's my neighbor, and he wakes me up every morning with shitty pop songs since the walls are so thin, but other that this, we get along well. I'm probably even more surprised about this than you. Having Iwaizumi as my classmate also helps a lot. I can't even think about what would have happened if it had been Oikawa.” He does start wondering about it, and only comes to the conclusion that one of them would have burned down the dorm, accidentally or not, before the end of the semester.

Suga smiles again, sweet and understanding, nothing like Bokuto's bright and excited grins or Kuroo's devious and cheeky smirks. “I'm glad you found some friends. I had my doubt about what would happen to you without us two,” he adds with a wink, and Daichi rolls his eyes.

“I wouldn't call them  _friends_ ,” he answers, but the sentence has no bite to it, as if Daichi's already resigned and only says this out of pride – which is exactly what it is, really.

A gasp echoes in his ear as two warm hands grab his shoulders. “I'm  _so hurt_ , Sawamura,” Kuroo whines, but there's that smirk on his face, as if he knows exactly what passed through Daichi's mind.

 

*

 

The Iwaizumi matter is soon forgotten when Bokuto starts to mope, and they all think he's merely got a bad grade for his “Little things” assignment – Kuroo had come to practice all smug, proud of his 69% and making bad jokes about how it's a sign he's meant to bang someone this week, even though Daichi has never actually seen him bringing back anyone from their now frequent nights out – before the silver-haired boy begins to cry in front of Legally Blonde as if it's the most heart-wrenching tragedy after The Notebook.

“Come on dude, just because Elle's been kicked out of her internship doesn't mean you'll get kicked out of col–“

“YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND,” Bokuto wails, and Iwaizumi seems to no longer have an eardrum the way he winces painfully. “I got a 62% you know!!”

“Then what the hell's happening for you to disturb Movie Night.” Iwaizumi now looks ready to throw him out the window. Daichi presses pause. He feels like it's going to be long.

“It's Akaashi,” Bokuto sighs loudly, and the three of them groan even louder.

“Bro.” Kuroo's voice is deep and firm, and for once he looks completely done with Bokuto's shit. “We've already been through this thirty-seven times. I counted. He has a crush on you the size of Iwaizumi's arms. And dare I remind you that Iwaizumi's nickname in my phone is Bara-King-Flex-Emoji.” Iwaizumi doesn't even seem offended as he looks back at Daichi, just utterly resigned with Kuroo's weird nicknaming habit. Daichi wonders what his own name is in Kuroo's contact list.

“I know you're lying to spare my feelings,” Bokuto whines, and this time it's Kuroo who threatens to throw him out the window.

“You know,” Daichi says, now ready to defuse the ticking bomb that is Bokuto's mood swings, “I sometimes wonder how you can be so perceptive when watching other people but so goddamn oblivious where you're concerned.” Bokuto's ears perk up, and he turns his dramatically tearful eyes towards him. “We've lived together for two months, and I've seen Akaashi maybe twice, and even I can see that there's something special between you.”

“Thank god for Sawamura Daichi,” Kuroo sighs. “See, if even  _he_  says it, then it must be true and you  _know it_. So just ask him out already.” Kuroo's captain voice shines through, unwavering, the one that leaves no room for compromise nor refusal. Daichi thinks it suits him a lot.

Bokuto pouts. “Well, at least I'm not as oblivious as our friend the Bara King here.”

This time, Iwaizumi's face whips around, and Daichi thinks that if looks could kill, Iwaizumi's would give his own deadly glare a run for its money. “What the fuck do you mean?!”

“Oh come on.” Kuroo drags his hand through his unruly hair. “Bokuto, that's not how you start an intervention.”

“What do you mean an  _intervention_?! Wasn't this just now an intervention for the disgustingly sappy idiot over here?”

“Everyone calm down!” Daichi uses his captain voice too, and it shows, because the three other boys actually stop arguing and turn to him, eyes wide. Kuroo seems almost admiring, his eyes catching the computer light and making flecks of gold flicker in and out in his irises. Daichi turns back to Iwaizumi. “So, umm, have you noticed that since Oikawa has been hanging around Ushijima, you've been down lately?”

Iwaizumi looks at him as if he doesn't understand. “Of course I've been. How would  _you_  react.”

“Are you scared that Oikawa will replace you?” Bokuto asks bluntly, all his former sadness gone as if it had never been there before.

Iwaizumi stares at him and Daichi is pretty sure he's currently thinking how much of a dumbass Bokuto can be sometimes. “Obviously. Imagine seeing Akaashi hanging out a lot with someone else, when you can't do anything about it.” Bokuto almost starts crying again. Daichi is not sure whether it's because he just legitimately thought of that scenario, or if it's the sheer fear Iwaizumi himself instills in him.

“Okay, so you  _are_  in love with our Grand Queen. Now that that's out of the way, what are you going to do about it?” Kuroo idly plays with a pen that's been lying around, flicking it between his lean fingers.

“Nothing? It's not as if I could see him every day, you know. Plus, what if he doesn't like me back? I don't want to ruin our friendship over something as stupid as a high-school crush. It'll pass.”

“A  _high-school crush_?! Do you even hear yourself?!” Bokuto almost throws himself at Iwaizumi in shock.

“Dude, you don't even sound to believe it when you say that,” Kuroo concurs.

Iwaizumi grinds his teeth. “Okay, so I've loved him since middle-school, now what?! I don't even think he's gay, he only dated girls back there, this is so fucked–“

“You should try it anyway,” Daichi interrupts. “When Suga and I started dating, I didn't even know that I swung that way too until he asked me.”

“Ooh, so that's your type,” Kuroo snickers, but there's no bite in his words. “Told you he was oblivious, Bokuto.”

“Anyway.” Daichi tries to suppress a flush. “When he asked me, he was in the same situation as you. He didn't know if I was gay, he didn't know if I was into him, he didn't want to ruin our friendship. Turns out I had a crush on him since our first year of high-school that even I didn't know about. And he asked anyway, because that's what he felt. And we've been very happy.”

“Why did you break up, then?” Bokuto asks innocently, and Daichi thinks he sees Kuroo shift in the corner of his eye.

“We figured we worked way better as friends, that's all. What I want to say is, Suga and I was a high-school crush. Oikawa and you have something deeper.”

“Yup, you're endgame, dude,” Kuroo adds, ever eloquent.

“And you won't know until you try anyway. Just try to make him understand slowly if you have to? I don't know, I'm no good at these things,” he confesses, embarrassed.

“Doesn't even surprise me.” Kuroo grins. “I bet Captain-Thighs-Eggplant-Emoji over there received plenty of confessions but never realized it.”

“Wait, how come my emoji's the  _eggplant_ , Kuroo?!”

 

*

 

Two weeks later, the good thing is that Bokuto and Akaashi are  _finally_  dating, and Bokuto's mood had never soared so high for such a long time. His grades went over the roof, his efficiency in practice had grown to a lethal level, and he had offered three times in one night to buy a round of drinks for everyone in the pub.

The bad thing is that this Friday night, Akaashi is currently sleeping at the dorm for the weekend, and the walls are  _thin_.

Daichi turns once again in his bed and puts his head under his pillow, trying without success to muffle the sounds of moans and dirty talk coming from his right. His hand finds his phone, and the light almost blinds him. 01:11.  _Are they fucking kidding me_. Daichi manages to get out of his bed and shuffles his feet to his bedroom door, walking into the hallway. He relishes in five blessed seconds of silence, before another moan makes its way out Bokuto's closed door and  _echoes_  down the hall. Daichi groans as he wonders whether he should ask Iwaizumi if he could crash at his, but sleepiness and something he cannot quite decipher draw him to the door in front of his own, and he knocks three times. He's about to knock again when the door opens, and Kuroo stands there, obviously confused as he shakes up some remnants of sleep, and very half-naked. Daichi flushes before he has time to control the rush of blood to his face, glancing down Kuroo's collarbones and fit arms, his slim but toned chest, and down his four-pack and the line of thin dark hair he had first noticed weeks before– when he looks up again, Kuroo's face looks very awake and very purple.

“I didn't even hear you coming,” Daichi whispers.

“Title of your sextape,” Kuroo deadpans back, and Daichi turns back towards his own door.

“No, wait, wait, Dai–“

They both freeze, and they don't know whether it's because Kuroo almost called Daichi by his first name or because they just heard another louder moan echoing down the hall.

Daichi turns back, and Kuroo stares at him, compassionate, before he steps away from the threshold without a word. Daichi chooses to follow him into his room.

He notices that Kuroo hasn't even bothered converting his couch to a bed, and has instead thrown two blankets and a pillow on it for him to sleep.

“You really are like a cat,” Daichi says almost fondly. He turns back to Kuroo, who's now wearing the same tank top he had lent Daichi for their first night out, and Daichi feels a pang of disappointment he doesn't dare think about.

“Do you wanna, um, drink something, or?” Kuroo asks, carding a hand through his even messier hair.

“It's almost half past midnight.”

“I was just being polite.”

“I just want to sleep, to be honest. Can I crash on your floor?”

Kuroo shifts uneasily. “That won't be very comfortable, will it?”

“You have any other idea?” Daichi asks, before they both look at the convertible couch.

“Umm.” Kuroo flushes again, and Daichi thinks purple suits him almost as much as black. “I mean, I don't really care, it's just that I might kick you, and stuff.”

“Right now, your cold feet in my back seem like a much better idea than hearing the two of them.”

Kuroo stares, looking at Daichi all snuggled up in his own blanket, then moves slowly to unfold the bed.

They lie down at opposite sides, back to back, and there's enough room for them not to touch, but Daichi can still feel the warmth of Kuroo's body by his side, and it's oddly comforting.

“I'm sorry for disturbing you, or anything.”

“It's fine,” Kuroo answers lightly. “I was barely sleeping anyway.”

“Liar. You looked very much sleepy back in the doorway.”

“Didn't you say I was like a cat? I take micro-naps. Next thing you know I'm gonna meow in your ear so that you'll get up and feed me.”

“Do that and I'm dragging you out and throwing you in Bokuto's room.”

“I'd like to see you try,  _Sa-wa-mu-ra_.” Daichi can hear the sharp edge of Kuroo's smile as he drawls out his name. “I'm a head taller than you.”

“Doesn't mean I can't kick your ass just fine.”

“Ooh,  _kinky_.”

“You wish.”

“So next step is I wind up in your room because Iwaizumi's too busy boning Oikawa?”

“Ugh,” Daichi lies on his back, looking at the ceiling. “I don't think I'll even stand Oikawa being here at all. Have you seen his snapchat story? Who even does 1163 seconds of only speaking about himself?!”

“I have so much to teach you about the world, Sawamura.”

When the two of them are finally too tired to speak and fall asleep, it's 01:58.

 

*

 

The second time they all get truly drunk together is when Kuroo steals Kozume's Wii and they choose to play a game Bokuto and him called “Legendary Mario Kart”. Since it's raining outside, they've all chosen to stay at the dorm and have a small party in their floor's common room, for once, and Iwaizumi had offered to do a video game night because might as well take advantage of the huge TV. Akaashi, Iwaizumi, and Daichi look at the two best friends strolling into the room like they own the place, Kozume's Wii under the arm and a whole bottle of a suspicious purple drink in hand.

“Violet-flavored vodka,” Bokuto announces proudly.

“This is gonna be a disaster,” Iwaizumi sighs.

The game is simple: four of them play Mario Kart, and the one who doesn't play the turn decides of an overall rule. Bokuto decides that Akaashi will give the first rule, apparently because he is “ _a neutral party_ ” while they all know he'll probably favor Bokuto anyway, and they take a Wii controller in their hands.

“Each player does the same number of shots than their place in the race,” Akaashi decides, and Daichi's face falls. He's nowhere near as good as Mario Kart as he is at cards, and only hopes he doesn't rank too low.

Kuroo, however, completely destroys them on the first turn, strong with ten years of playing against Kozume, who is “ _practically a Mario Kart God_ ” in Kuroo's words. Iwaizumi surprisingly manages to land third place, while Bokuto and Daichi end up sixth and seventh. Daichi is handed a glass of the purple drink.

“ _Cheers_ , Sawamura,” Kuroo snickers in surprisingly good English, and they both down their drink without looking away from each other.

Akaashi, being only slightly less angelic than Suga, decides to take Daichi's place since he had to drink seven shots. Daichi is pleasantly surprised: violet tastes sweet and makes the burn of alcohol a lot more bearable, but he guesses that two other turns like those would have made him even drunker than Bokuto when he got completely naked at the frat party. Daichi thinks up a rule to turn Kuroo's smug smirk upside down.

“The second-to-last player decides how many drinks the other players take.”

Finishing second-to-last is apparently a struggle for Kuroo who, no matter how much he deliberately falls out of the map, doesn't manage to finish third in the room; in fact, Iwaizumi ends up winning the round, since he ends up eigth while Bokuto comes second place, Akaashi fourth, and Kuroo ninth.

“Ugh, so close yet so far,” he says as he dramatically puts his hand on his heart. “Go for it, Bara King.”

“Okay, you take ten shots. I don't care what happens to your sorry ass, I'm gonna make you stop calling me that. Bokuto, take three. Akaashi, take one.” Iwaizumi high-fives Daichi, the both of them staring pointedly at the middle-blocker.

“Aww, look at how nicely they get along!” Bokuto cheers. “This would make  _such_  a good pic to send Oikawa.”

“Bokuto-san, please.”

“I told you, Akaashi, call me  _Kou-ta-rou_!”

“But you still call me Akaashi.”

“This is way too sickly sweet for me.” Kuroo scrunches up his face in simulated disgust. “I'm out this turn. Here, Sawamura.” Daichi definitely doesn't think about how warm Kuroo's fingers are when he accidentally brushes against them.

The night goes on until everyone is a step away from completely wasted, and they all decide it will be the last turn since it's almost one in the morning. Kuroo has been filming some parts of their little party, as he has now taken the habit, and Bokuto has been playing with Akaashi between his legs for a while, whereas Iwaizumi and Daichi have tried to team up as much as possible to take down Kuroo. Bokuto's the one giving the rule this time, and he smirks as he watches Daichi and Iwaizumi.

“I'm taking revenge for my bro here. The winner gives a dare to the loser.”

All of them groan, even Akaashi, because this is way too cliché, but Bokuto is too drunk to care and is back at fluffing up his boyfriend's hair. The final race takes place on DK Summit, and Daichi sighs in concentration as the countdown dwindles down. He starts well, tailing Kuroo at second place, but is soon hit by a green shell and is thrown out the map. The race continues, and Iwaizumi whispers an excited “Yes!”: he has a blue shell.

“Please do it,” Daichi begs him.

“Please don't,” Kuroo laughs weakly.

Iwaizumi smirks as he presses the button, and the string of insults Kuroo spits is like honey to Daichi's ears–

“Just kidding,” Kuroo smirks, as he returns to first place like nothing ever happened.

In the end, Daichi ends up tenth, in a last effort from Iwaizumi to save his skin and finish eighth. Akaashi grins to Bokuto from fourth place, and Kuroo relishes in his first place by sending Daichi a smile that makes him shiver to his bones.

“Well, well, well, what would I have you do, I wonder,” Kuroo sing-songs like the absolute manchild he is, and Daichi prays for the sweet relief of death. Kuroo, for an instant, seems to turn serious, smirk fading away as his sharp, cat-like gaze bores into Daichi's, intense and shrewd, and  Daichi almost feels drawn to him, like he had been drawn to his bedroom door some nights ago, drawn like moth to a very dangerous, brilliantly amber flame. The ghost of a faint smile draws on Kuroo's face.

“Sawamura, I want you to–“

The fire alarm blasts through the night and sends them all running out under the rain.

“Are you  _fucking_  kidding me.” Iwaizumi is soaked to the bone and obviously pissed.

Kuroo himself is a literal kitten caught under the pouring rain, limbs shivering and teeth chattering. “I swear if I find whoever's been smoking in their room  _again_ –“

“What do you mean, again?” Akaashi inquires from under Bokuto's jacket.

“It also happened like ten days ago,” Daichi provides. “Someone had the good idea to smoke in their room on a rainy day like this and sent the whole building out in the rain.”

Kuroo looks positively pathetic when they can finally enter their dorm again, head hung low between his shoulders, but Daichi notices that his hair has flattened and apart from a couple of cowlicks here and there, his bedhead is nowhere to be seen. It's actually a refreshing change: his hair hang over his forehead and fall in front of his eyes as he goes to the common room to fetch his bedroom key. Daichi enters his own room and hastily throws a towel over his own head, ruffling lightly. When he steps in the doorway again, Kuroo comes back silently, fingers idly playing with the key, and he figures Kuroo must dislike rain a lot if it throws him into such a low-key mood.

“You really are like a cat,” Daichi tells him as he's about to enter his room, and Kuroo raises his gaze absent-mindedly.

“Sorry, what? I was thinking.”

“A truly complex concept,” Daichi snarks. It brings back a small grin on Kuroo's face, and before Daichi can think, he takes three steps and dumps his towel on Kuroo's head.

“There, or your hair's going to stick out even more.”

Kuroo looks at him with wide eyes, mouth slightly open in astonishment, before he gives Daichi his full grin again.

“Since Sawamura's so nice to me, guess I'll keep your dare for another time, then.”

As Kuroo closes the door, Daichi can't even find it in him to regret what he did.

 

*

 

Nekoma's and Fukurodani's training camp takes place just before Daichi's finals in July, but he'll be damned if he doesn't go. Kuroo asks Nekoma's former libero Yaku to attend too, and Iwaizumi tags along because he has nothing better to do – Daichi suspects that he only wants to check out Kageyama's growth because, as he had learnt through their various discussions while they both crammed for their finals or spent nights awake to work on their assignments, Iwaizumi had been a pretty good senpai to the genius setter back in middle school, contrary to a certain Oikawa Tooru.

When they arrive to Fukurodani after a twenty-minute train ride, Daichi is swarmed by a bunch of over-excited teenagers: even Kageyama and Tsukishima participate, though reluctantly, in the group hug that Noya initiates, and they all stop their warm-up for a fifteen-minute chat about university and Suga and Asahi and how their receives still all kind of suck. Ennoshita wears the #1 training jersey proudly, and Daichi figures that their little talk before he left has not been useless after all. The new first-years all bow down to their toes when Noya introduces him, and he also says hello to Yachi, who seems as shy as ever, but Daichi can see the fire in her eyes and knows that she is as serious about the club as they all are, and the determination with which she's cooking onigiri with the other managers warms his heart. She has also apparently designed new t-shirts and sweaters for the whole team, since they've all discarded them on the benches nearby, but discarded with so much obvious care – some sweaters are even neatly folded as if they were the most precious things in the world – that Daichi is sure it's Yachi's own work: both pieces of clothing are all black except for the bright orange blazon of Karasuno high sewn at chest-level on the right, while a small orange bird – a flying crow, Daichi realizes – emblazoned just upon the heart.

Coach Ukai and Takeda-sensei come see him too when the others go back to practice under Ennoshita's hard stare – Suga wasn't lying, his silent glare is almost as frightening as Daichi's own, and all the rowdy teens walk back on the court without a single word, even Tanaka – and they talk about university for a while: his incoming finals, his life on campus, what it's like to team up with former rivals on the college team, and Daichi's gaze flickers to Kuroo proudly teaching the first-years Nekoma's embarrassing motto, who looks back and smiles the same cunning smile he had a year ago when they first met on the same court.

“It's alright, I guess,” Daichi answers.

When Karasuno has their match against Nekoma, Kuroo comes to sit down next to him on the bench, while Yaku is busy observing them with Iwaizumi and obviously in the middle of an intense discussion Daichi wants no part of: he needs to focus and give his former teammates as much advice as he can, especially to the first years, even though he's sure Ennoshita does it well enough by himself. They remain quiet during the first few points, and the game is pretty even when Kuroo breaks the comfortable silence.

“I'm kinda sad we won't be able to participate in that legendary battle of the trash heap.”

Daichi chuckles painfully, the defeat against Shiratorizawa that made them lose their ticket to the Nationals still sitting bitter on his tongue. “We can't do anything about it now, can we?”

“Sorry. I shouldn't have mentioned it.”

“It's okay, I've made my peace,” Daichi lies, and Kuroo snorts.

“Let's get revenge and beat Ushiwaka's ass this year.”

“Couldn't agree more.”

While they're playing, Daichi cannot help but focus on all the little details that changed about his former teammates: both Yamaguchi's and Hinata's hair are a little longer, the former long enough so that he has to tie it in a small ponytail at the back of his head; Tanaka looks even fitter than before, now almost as tall as Tsukishima; and he didn't think it was possible to the latter to grow even more, but apparently he did, since he's now towering over all of the other players. Kageyama also looks more open and sociable, as he clumsily cheers on his teammates when they make a nice move, or even earlier when he had bowed down 90 degrees in front of Akaashi in order to ask him advice about how to set better.

“Hey, Sawamura,” Kuroo grins. “I have an idea.”

“You don't know how much this sentence scares me when it comes out of your mouth, Kuroo.”

“Oh please. When was the last time that I had a bad idea?”

“Three days ago? You cooked eggs in the microwave?”

“This was a  _mistake_ , not a idea,” Kuroo sighs. “Plus, it  _is_  possible with the right utensils and stuff!”

“Spit it out.”

“Do you think we could play against them? Us, college students?”

 _That_  gets Daichi's attention, and he turns to Kuroo as he ponders the question. It would make good practice, since all of them ex-captains and vice-captains know the exact flaws of their former players, but...

“Even if we could play with six people, which we can't, we don't even have a setter.”

“Listen: we'll pick them from their teams. We take Kenma when we play against Karasuno, Kageyama when we play against Fukurodani, and Akaashi when we play against Nekoma.”

“And what about our last player?”

“Let's pick middle blockers. Inuoka against Karasuno, Onaga against Nekoma... And Hinata against Fukurodani. I want to see that freak attack on my side of the court at least once.”

A grin slowly splits Daichi's face. “Let's ask the others.”

 

Bokuto insists that they play against Nekoma first, since he wants to play with Akaashi as soon as possible. The other teams surround the court as they all warm up, having borrowed training clothes from the various students since they didn't bring their own, and it's clear to everyone that they're both vastly admired and intimidating. Their line-up is obviously strong, with powerhouses such as Bokuto and Iwaizumi, and Kuroo's height and game sense on their side, combined with Yaku's and Daichi's amazing defense. Akaashi looks confident when he shakes Kenma's hand with a small smile, while on the other side the second-years seem to shiver in anticipation. He vaguely hears Hinata and Noya cheering for “Daichi-san” on the sidelines, and another determined smile creeps on his face as he's about to serve.

It soon becomes clear that their experience, as well as playing at college-level every day, becomes overwhelming for Nekoma. However, they still manage to hold their own, mostly thanks to Yamamoto's cheers and energy as well as Kozume's cleverness, who manages to outwit even Kuroo once or twice. On their side, Akaashi's serves are confident and refined from practice, and he manages to set almost perfectly for each of them. It reminds him of Oikawa, and Daichi wonders how more devastating their ragtag team would have been with Oikawa setting for them. Bokuto, of course, doesn't hesitate to catch Akaashi's face in his hands and kiss him right on the mouth every time he scores, and Daichi can see Kozume scrunching up his face in disgust each time as if he has seen way too much and is now a hundred percent done with all this. Kuroo cannot help but congratulate his former teammates each time they do a particularly nice move either, which helps cheering them up, and Bokuto has an inevitable low and goes sulk in a corner shortly after as Nekoma gets a streak of points. In the end, they win 25 to 18, and they all compliment the high-schoolers for having held up so well.

Karasuno looks ready to tear their throats when they step on the court, and this is when Daichi realizes that the third-years truly took their place as the backbone of the team, Tanaka cheering on them in a way that's very reminiscent of Yamamoto some minutes ago, Noya declaring himself once again as the team's Guardian Deity under Hinata's ever-admiring stare, and Ennoshita's now confident, unwavering voice asking them to do their very best. Like that, they look almost – no, definitely scary, and Daichi understands why a group of crows is called a  _murder_.

“Feeling proud,  _captain_?” Kuroo teases, but Daichi knows he himself probably felt the same during the last game, and just lets out a laugh.

The very different thing about that game is how in sync Kuroo and Kozume obviously are. Each of their movements flows as blood coursing through veins, and Daichi thinks that at this point the two of them are merely reacting on instinct and not even thinking anymore. It's as if they're two different beings shared by the same mind and coordinating accordingly, thinking up the same strategies and moves to counterbalance Karasuno's attacks and quicks, almost finishing up the other's sentences when they time out for a minute – Daichi cannot help but feel a little jealous not to having reached this level of understanding with anyone before, not even Suga. He wonders if, in a rougher, dafter way, this is how Hinata and Kageyama have come to behave too.

He still feels pride when he sees Yamaguchi, who's now a regular, getting out a flawless jump float serve which leaves them all scrambling for a while, as well as Hinata's and Kageyama's quick being more polished than before. Kageyama still glares at Kozume whenever he manages to outwit him, while Hinata just cheers in admiration and chats with Inuoka the whole match, which leads to Tsukishima fake-dismissively asking him not to  _root for the enemy_ , and Daichi laughs again. Kozume's performance is less shining than Akaashi's, except with Kuroo, but is widely compensated by the college students' level and skill, and they end up winning again, 25 to 15.

Kageyama and Hinata switch courts almost as soon as they shake hands with Kozume and Inuoka, and the redhead starts bouncing up and down next to Bokuto, while the wing spiker is obviously happy to have Hinata under his wing again. Kageyama nervously stands by in awkwardness until Iwaizumi walks up to him and smiles, and his eyes start shining when Daichi catches a  _no hard feelings_  or  _let's have a good game_  or something of that kind. Kuroo interrupts them to take a selfie, and Daichi is pretty sure he's going to send it to Oikawa, who will certainly throw a fit as soon as he receives it.

“Do you think Kageyama would have ended up so withdrawn if Oikawa hadn't been there?” He asks Iwaizumi after he's back by his side as Kuroo and Bokuto start trading jokes with the second-years.

“Who knows,” the wing spiker shrugs. “He's known Oikawa as a teammate for only a year after all. I don't really think that idiot's the only one to blame.”

The match against Fukurodani starts, and even if their team is only formed of two of last year's players, their lineup still looks strong: all their middle-blockers are over 185cm tall, and with Akaashi wearing the captain jersey, Fukurodani's team has none of the goofiness Bokuto infused – they look serious and determined, all sharp eyes and eager smiles. The resemblance Daichi has drawn earlier between Oikawa and Akaashi shines even more on the other side of the court, and Daichi feels like Kageyama is almost making it a personal matter to outperform him at every set. When Hinata and he finally set their first quick attack into motion, all of Fukurodani is left stunned, as slasher smiles draw on each of their own faces.

“Feels even more amazing from this side of the court,” Kuroo grins before Iwaizumi congratulates Kageyama with a broad pat on the shoulder.

Kageyama also rarely struggles anymore when he sets to other players, especially to Daichi and Iwaizumi, who seems impressed with Kageyama's accuracy, and even when the genius setter misses, he apologizes immediately – Hinata's own teasing “ _don't mind don't mind, Kageyama-kun_ ” rile him up again, and Daichi is relieved he doesn't have to worry about the kid's growth. Kuroo teaches Hinata one or two blocking and spiking tricks, and the decoy thanks him earnestly, while Bokuto asks him for a high-five each time he scores. This is also when Daichi realizes that Hinata  acts as a small ball of energy and cheerfulness, lifting everyone's spirits whenever they're in a pinch, and he looks over to Noya and Tanaka on the sidelines.

He voices his thoughts aloud to his teammates. “Hinata would probably make a good captain, if only–“

“–he had more common sense,” Kuroo finishes with a mocking grin.

“Yeah, and Kageyama doesn't seem much better when he's off the court,” Iwaizumi sighs.

“If I were Ennoshita, I would pick Tsukki for captain next year,” Bokuto ponders.

“Though in that case Hinata definitely has to end up as vice-captain,” Yaku snickers, “or else the first years are going to have a hell of a bad time.”

Hinata and Kageyama watch their little reunion suspiciously, while Tsukishima sneezes on the sidelines, which makes a very worried Yachi shriek and fuss, asking if everything is okay, and that if there's anything she can do he should just ask and  _oh my god I hope you're not sick – I'm not sick, Yachi, stop worrying so much all the time_ , Tsukishima answers with a soft smile Daichi  _knows_  he wants mocking but can't quite manage to.

Fukurodani ends up playing better than Nekoma and Karasuno, which sends a conflicted wave of feelings in Bokuto a few times – pride to see how well his boyfriend is doing with an almost completely different team, but also disappointment each time they have to concede a point, as well as the obvious joy he feels when he himself scores a perfect spike – and even Kuroo and Akaashi confess they've never seen him being so torn up between his energetic and low-key modes before. In the end, Daichi's team, as predicted, comes out on top, but they still won with a mere five-point margin. He wonders if Kageyama feels self-conscious about his lack of experience compared to the two other setters they played with and against, but he only bows to Akaashi and asks him for plenty of rematches the day after, which leaves Akaashi chuckling in agreement – Bokuto now goes into low-key mode because Akaashi  _never_ chuckles, much less at someone else but him, and Kuroo replies that it's only his own enthusiasm that's imprinting on him, which once again makes him switch back to his cheerful self.

All of the college students are beat after they leave Fukurodani with waves and shouts and promises, and fall into a comfortable silence as they sit in the train. The sun is painting gold and red across the sky, and he feels Bokuto's head falling on his shoulder as he dozes off, while Iwaizumi is apparently arguing with Oikawa because  _how could you betray me like that Iwa-chan, you played with Kageyama, you played with my ARCHNEMESIS_  – yes, he did capslock it, Iwaizumi supplies. Yaku is sitting in front of them, eyes closed, against Kuroo's arm, while the dark-haired boy looks through the window, quiet and thoughtful and  _golden_.

When Kuroo glances at him and Bokuto and smiles, Daichi feels that it's not the sky, but his own chest that's on fire.

 

*

 

Daichi and Iwaizumi both decide to come back to Miyagi together at the end of July, because it's more comfortable to take the same trains, and Daichi is pretty sure Iwaizumi will need someone to talk to when he figures out what exactly is going on with Oikawa in college. He has bought the setter a present a week ago for his birthday, something apparently dealing with astronomy, even though Daichi doesn't really know what exactly it is and didn't want to pry. They watch a movie during the train ride, and receive a few texts from their families so that they can come pick them up.

It isn't until Daichi steps outside the station that he feels homesick. The good kind of homesickness, he wonders: the kind where you didn't even realize how much you missed home until you actually came back, until you heard the familiar rustling of leaves and felt the summer heat and smelled the ground and earth instead of concrete and pollution. Iwaizumi's mother says hello, then leaves with his son as the boys promise to see each other during the week they'll spend here. A few minutes later, Daichi's dad arrives with his littlest brother and sister – twins – in a flurry of hugs and cries and kisses and  _we missed you so much big bro_ , and he finally goes home.

Home hasn't changed a lot, he remarks: his little brother and sisters have grown again, of course, but he sees it only in small details. His little sister's hair is longer, and she now ties it with ribbons, as a lot of her friends in middle-school do, while the twins now speak a little better and cannot stop talking about all the great things they learn at school and how many friends they have. He missed his parents' cooking too, that's for sure: his diet of mostly frozen food and quick recipes and pizza he wasn't exactly used to, and it's a relief to come home to the smell of homemade katsudon and well-cooked vegetables. He receives a text from Suga during dinner, asking if he wants to have coffee with Asahi and him the day after, which of course he answers positively.

At night, it feels weird, not hearing Bokuto's soft snoring through the thin wall on his right, not having a bed but a futon instead, not seeing the posters and pictures on his walls. It feels weird, knowing that the room crossing his in the hallway is that of his little sister, and not Kuroo's, knowing that he won't see the sun through his window when he wakes up because he has curtains and no balcony here, knowing that he won't be exchanging stories of their weird dreams with Iwaizumi in the mornings while taking takeout coffee from the coffee shop down the street.

It feels weird, feeling so much at home yet so much out of place at once. Daichi decides to escape the thought and sleep on it instead.

The meeting with Suga is plenty less weird, he thinks as they share a warm hug in front of the coffee shop where they used to go as high-schoolers. He also hugs Asahi, albeit a little less tight, and watches helplessly as he's grown two or three centimeters taller again. They talk as if they'd never been apart, sharing university stories, and Daichi tells them about the night at the frat house and the game of Mario Kart, and Suga tells him about how everyone keeps asking Asahi for drugs at college even though he doesn't even smoke, how they found themselves having to run away after Suga accidentally – or so does he insist – stole a pint glass from a bar because it had a cute design on it, and they laugh as if they'll never laugh again for years. Daichi also tells them about Bokuto and Akaashi preventing him to sleep properly and him having to crash at either Iwaizumi's or Kuroo's when it happened, and Suga mentions how he saw Oikawa three days ago to catch up a little and he spent the whole time talking about either how irritating Ushijima was or how much he missed his best friend, and it's natural, really, that they each send a text to Iwaizumi and Oikawa to ask if they want to meet up. That day, they also go and see the Karasuno boys, and even though it's only been a few weeks for Daichi, they still welcome him as if they hadn't seen him for years. Suga and Asahi are both tackled to the ground by a tearful Noya, and they all end up eating dinner together at Coach Ukai's house, trading stories and jokes and quips.

When he falls asleep the second night, Daichi feels a little less homesick.

 

On the fifth day, he meets with Suga and Asahi in a bar in town, and they settle in a booth waiting for Oikawa and Iwaizumi. Asahi fetches them three pints of beer, which they serenely sip until a very recognizable “ _Yahoo!_ ” echoes in the bar and makes Suga chuckle.

Oikawa is even more handsome, if it's possible: his hair is still styled the same, but his chestnut curls are a little longer, and his clothes more stylish and adult, so that every woman – and some men – no matter their age turn their heads towards him. Iwaizumi himself looks away to Daichi as Oikawa settles in front of Suga and Asahi, between Daichi and him.

“So how is Karasuno's former captain?” Oikawa smiles, ever his polite, charming self. “Iwaizumi's told me a  _lot_ about you,” he adds, this time with a devilish smirk that rivals Kuroo's, and Daichi rolls his eyes.

“I didn't, just in case. All he knows, Kuroo tells him.”

“Nice, I was just thinking of an excuse to end his life when I come back.” Kuroo had sent him a picture today of himself eating the last of Daichi's Nutella with a spoon, and Daichi was planning to use it before remembering Snapchat deleted the pictures immediately and he hadn't taken a screenshot. “And you, Oikawa, weren't you planning to murder Ushijima in his sleep?”

Oikawa hums absent-mindedly. “I was, but he's become nicer lately, and I need someone to go to parties with me. Ushiwaka-chan's absolutely hilarious when he's drunk.” His eyes now sparkle with mischief as he gets out his phone and shows them all a series of pictures of the former Shiratorizawa captain sprawled on a beer pong table, soaked in alcohol,  jumping on bar tools, and even a video of him trying to make a cocktail in a shaker and pouring everything on Oikawa's teammate Hanamaki.

“Speaking of, aren't Hanamaki and Matsukawa coming too?”

“Oh, they're coming alright,” Suga smirks, and Oikawa ends up howling in laughter with Iwaizumi takes his head in his hands. Daichi doesn't know how Oikawa ever ended up with Suga's number, doesn't actually  _want_  to know, but is completely uncomfortable with how much of a bad influence the pretty boy seems to have on his friend.

Mattsun and Makki, as Oikawa calls them – he has even worse nickname ideas than Kuroo, Daichi thinks – arrive two beers later hand in hand, and Daichi wonders how the fuck he found himself with so much gay or bi guys around him and never realized it before. Well, he's pretty sure Kuroo's gay, even though he never asked him. Or he hopes. He isn't sure he wants to know the difference right now. He's surprised Oikawa actually is very good company when he's not an antagonistic asshole, and entertains the lot of them with jokes and anecdotes – he can even understand what Iwaizumi can see in him, although Oikawa seems way too annoying at first; even Asahi seems to have fun, even though he remains discreet, and finds out he apparently has a lot in common with Matsukawa since they start talking a lot, while Hanamaki makes lewd jokes at everything Oikawa says. Daichi almost expects Kuroo and Bokuto to walk in and start vandalizing the bar, but they don't, and Daichi feels kind of sad as he stands up to get some alcohol again, asking Iwaizumi to come with him.

“You alright?” He asks his roommate as Iwaizumi half-slumps on the bar.

“I don't know. I think I'm going to speak to Oikawa tomorrow.”

“Speak to him?”

Iwaizumi stares skeptically. “You really  _are_  oblivious sometimes, you know.”

“Oh. Yeah. About that. Sorry, I just drank, my head's kind of fuzzy.”

The other boy just smiles a little, before looking back to his best friend. “He told me he had a lot of... adventures in college. Boys and girls. Experimenting, he called it.” Iwaizumi's gaze is unfocused, almost empty. “I think I'm scared, Daichi.”

Daichi feels now completely sober, no matter how much to drink he had before. “If you really feel it won't work, you don't have to do this, you know.”

“No. I need to. It becomes too much to bear, seeing him like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like he's both the most insufferable and the most wonderful thing to exist in this world.”

Daichi would have laughed if it was the alcohol talking, if it was a light conversation at the dorm between the four of them while watching a movie, if Iwaizumi wasn't completely serious.

“I never took you for a poet, and even less for a romantic,” he teases instead.

“Careful, Sawamura. Kuroo's rubbing off on you.”

Daichi thinks back of sharp golden eyes and cunning smirks, of deft lean fingers holding a camera and warmth seeping out of skin at night, of wild hair and wilder mind.

“I kinda hope he does, actually.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don't know. I'm not sure if I want to know.”

Iwaizumi hums. “Sometimes you have to think about these things, Daichi.”

“And how do you do that?”

“You ask yourself questions. That's what I did.”

Daichi lets the blessedly cold beer run along into his throat. It tastes like relief.

That night, after their little meet-up, Daichi falls asleep thinking his former life isn't his actual life anymore. He's surprisingly okay with that.

 

*

 

Daichi comes back to Tokyo alone because Iwaizumi chooses to stay with Oikawa a little longer. The boy has apparently confessed to Oikawa, or however it has happened, and since then Oikawa's sent Daichi an awful lot of couple pics to prove whatever point he is trying to make. Suga comes, alone, to say goodbye at the station, and they share the same hug they shared a week before in front of their coffee shop.

“I'm going to miss you,” Daichi tells him.

“Me too,” comes the answer, truthful and pure, and Daichi doesn't look back when he enters the train, and throws Suga a small wave and a smile instead when the doors close and the engine starts.

He finds himself in front of his building in what seems to him a thousand years and a few seconds at the same time, the feeling of being half-home settling in his stomach comfortably, walking up the familiar flight of stairs until the third floor, passing the kitchen and the common room until the end of the hallway, where he opens the door and falls asleep on the bed right after.

He wakes up a few hours after, as the sun is just starting to dip down – it must be something like 6:30, he thinks – and his stomach is growling in hunger. He makes his way to the kitchen in the empty hallway – it's crazy how emptier it all seems when even the roommates whom they don't often see aren't there – but stops when he catches the door half-open. Yaku, Nekoma's former libero, is sitting on the kitchen island, legs dangling idly, while Kuroo makes some coffee, or food, he doesn't know. What he knows, however, is that he shouldn't eavesdrop on other people's conversations. Yet he does, as he hides against the wall.

“I kind of miss your coffee, you know,” Yaku says lightly.

“How thoughtful of you, praising my coffee-making skills and all.”

“Have you made coffee for anyone here yet?”

“Sometimes. For Sawamura and Iwaizumi, mostly. They needed it during finals,” and Daichi catches the fond, slightly mocking way he finishes his sentence.

“I certainly don't miss you, though. I don't know how Sawamura didn't kill you yet.”

“Dumb luck and a deal with the devil.”

That makes Yaku laugh lightly.  _He has a nice laugh, melodious. Nothing like mine._

“I don't miss you either, if that's what you wanted to be sure of.” Kuroo quips.

“I don't blame you. You can't miss something you don't truly want.”

“What do you mean?”

“Surrogates. That was what we were to each other, weren't we?”

“Does it make anything I ever said less true?”

The room is silent for a moment, before Daichi hears footsteps and the clinking of cups and decides to run away.

 

He's in the middle of asking himself questions, as Iwaizumi put it, when he hears knocking on the door, and as usual, Kuroo doesn't even wait for Daichi's agreement to open the door and entering his bedroom.

“One day, you're going to regret having this habit,” Daichi tells him without glancing away from his ceiling, as Kuroo sits on his bed next to him and hands him a cup of coffee.

“Didn't even hear my favorite roommate come back. I had to check if you weren't dead in there.”

Daichi snorts. “Saw you with Yaku in the kitchen, so I didn't want to intrude.”

Kuroo frowns slightly. “Intrude on what?”

“I don't know, I guess at the time it seemed important and I was too tired to even say hello?” Daichi says as he eludes the question.

“I'm not blaming you, it's a long way from Miyagi.”

The room becomes silent as they both sip on their drink.

“Kuroo?”

The other boy hums.

“You make good coffee.”

“Welcome back, Sawamura.”

Since Bokuto is apparently spending his holidays with Akaashi in Okinawa, Kuroo and Daichi find themselves in front of Kuroo's laptop that evening, watching an old Woody Allen movie that Kuroo had to analyze as part of one of his classes, a bittersweet romantic comedy he made in the seventies. Daichi realizes it in the middle of a dialogue of the movie.

He's in love with Kuroo.

He remains surprisingly calm as he gazes to the man from the corner of his eye, wild hair half-digging into a pillow that he holds tight in his arms, eyes focused on the movie, back arched that makes him as tall – or rather, as small as Daichi. He's reminded of what Iwaizumi had said once, drunk on tiredness, that love is completely irrational, that one day you wake up thinking “oh”, and everything takes a new shape and color. The change doesn't come for Daichi: he finds out his love is Kuroo-shaped, the color a strange mixture of black and purple and red and gold, but it's as if it's always been there, even though Daichi  _knows_  it hasn't, but strangely, loving Kuroo seems both incredibly frightening and amazingly familiar, as if standing over a cliff you used to go to all the time when you were little because it was your favorite place in the world, a feeling of being extremely big and infinitely small–

But more than that, loving Kuroo feels like coming home, like coming home and finding that everything and nothing has changed at the same time, like leaving the house you grew up in to settle alone in your own flat and you don't know if you have two homes or none at all. Loving Kuroo is a paradox – but one Daichi feels like he knows the answer to.

The credits roll as Daichi yawns.

“So Iwaizumi won't be back before we go back to college?”

“I don't know. I just know that I definitely don't want Oikawa hanging around here too often.”

“Imagine if he  _transfers_  here,” Kuroo shudders dramatically. “We would have to get revenge by bringing home at least one person each each time we go out.”

“You never actually brought anyone, though.”  _Only Yaku_.

“Well, neither did you. Still in love with Suga, or something?” He teases, but it sounds kind of hollow?

“You kidding, right? Or do  _you_  still have feelings for Yaku?”

Kuroo whips his head, eyes wide, and Daichi knows he's made a mistake.

“Who told you?”

“I-I'm less oblivious than you all think, is all!”

“I'm sure it's Bokuto– I'm going to destroy him, I swear.”

“Hey, it's not a big deal, is it? You can talk to me if you want.”

Kuroo looks at him almost suspiciously, as if scanning him, stripping him of every bit of lying skin and thoughts he can find, before he sighs in defeat.

“We never dated. We just, you know.”

“Yeah, I think I know.”

“Yeah. But I never felt anything beyond... affection for him. I wasn't in love with him. He was– how did he say earlier? A surrogate, or something. It's a good definition. Both compensating for something– some _one_  we couldn't have with each other. But in the end, he got the one he wanted, and we broke it off.”

“So where was the big deal?”

Kuroo snorts, but doesn't answer. “So, you? Still in love with Suga?”

“Not at all. I saw him during my time in Miyagi. And... I truly didn't feel anything for him but friendship. So I guess that's settled.”

Kuroo sighs again. “It felt lonely here, without you all.”

“Yeah. It felt weird, not hearing all of you live next to me, to be honest. Especially Bokuto's snores.”

“Tell me about it.” He yawns, and Daichi relishes in the fact that he can think that adorable without feeling a little ashamed, now. “God, that movie tired me out.”

“Makes you think, at least, which is a concept you should study sometimes.”

“Oh please, Sawamura,” Kuroo smirks. “I'm not Bokuto. Everything I do, I think about before.”

“Even the stupid as fuck things?”

“ _Especially_  the stupid as fuck things.”

Daichi walks to Kuroo's door, stretching a little. “Well, wake me up if you feel lonely again. I'll hold your hand when you sleep.” He intends to sound sarcastic, but doesn't think it gets quite completely through.

“Sawamura?”

Daichi hums from the hallway.

“I'm glad you're here.”

Daichi's chest is about to burst. “Yeah,” he answers breathless, “I'm glad to be here too.”

 

*

 

“Infatuation”.

It's the word Bokuto and Kuroo have to use to direct a short movie as their main second semester assignment. Daichi thinks the world is playing a cruel prank on him. Kuroo asks Iwaizumi over dinner one day if he can ask Oikawa to act for him, and of course Oikawa agrees – Kuroo's scenario is more or less a horror story, where the viewer discovers in a final twist that Oikawa's character killed his long-time girlfriend and hid her body under his bed, and they decide to film the whole thing in Yaku's apartment in Tokyo the weekend after while the idea is still fresh in Kuroo's mind.

During the week, Kuroo locks himself in his room to work on his scenario, barely even getting out to eat and shower, and it's Daichi that Bokuto comes bother instead, since he's way too scared of Iwaizumi's quick temper. The energetic wing spiker insists that Daichi help him to find an idea for his assignment, keeps him company to watch TV shows, takes naps on his bed while Daichi works on his own homework. Daichi doesn't mind one bit, and is even grateful for the constant reassuring presence that Bokuto offers, as well as his ability to take problems off Daichi's mind – the current main problem being how Daichi is going to deal with the fact that he's in love with his neighbor and friend. Kuroo had once told him that Daichi probably got a lot of confessions but never noticed it, and he was right: Daichi never had to confess to someone, since he always got confessions, and neither did he notice whether people seemed to like him as more than a friend or a reliable figure; and he'd like to talk to Bokuto about it, but he fears that he'll go and scream it over the rooftops for everyone and especially Kuroo himself to hear.

So he doesn't know if he must be relieved or scared when Bokuto shares his idea for his assignment.

It happens as Bokuto lies on Daichi's bed as he's working, humming a song he heard not long ago, and it's like an epiphany: he shouts to the sky, stands up, and bangs on Daichi's desk with two hands.

“Daichi. My man. My bro. I know what I'm going to film.”

Daichi sighs.

“But I need you.”

“Wait, what?! I don't even know if I can act.”

“Don't worry,” Bokuto says as he waves a hand dismissively, reassuring smile on his face. “You won't have to act too much.”

“What is it?” Daichi asks suspiciously.

“Okay, so I have this song I really like at the moment – it's so uplifting, and it talks about love –  and I imagine two couples. Like we see a guy and a girl walking in the street, and a guy and a girl in their own flat. And we follow the two of them coming home after a long time, I don't know, there'll be suitcases maybe, and how the lovers get ready to meet them – the guy starts cooking a candlelit dinner, the girl is making herself up and choosing dresses–“

“And you want me to play one of those guys?”

“Yeah, and Kuroo the other. I'll ask two girls from my class to act as the other parts.”

“Okay, and so they're just coming home and finding each other again?”

“ _That's_  where the plot twist is. They open the door to their flats, and the girl is actually coming home to the other girl, while the guy is coming home to the other guy.”

Daichi's mind takes a good five seconds to process this new information, before crimson flushes his face.

“Wait. You want me to act. As if I'm. In a relationship. With Kuroo.”

Bokuto, of course, doesn't see the problem, and shakes his head intently.

“Why don't you ask Iwaizumi and Oikawa?”

“Oikawa's already booked by Kuroo, it'll be weird to have him in both our assignments.”

“Kuroo won't even agree.”

“Who knows. I was hoping to film this next weekend, since we have Yaku's flat too. I was already following Kuroo anyway, I have to help him with lighting and everything. Please please  _pretty please_?”

As Bokuto tries to woo him with puppy eyes, he cannot find it in his heart to say no.

 

Kuroo, as Daichi discovers this weekend, is surprisingly chill about the whole thing, instead incredibly focused on his own assignment. He has his script and his storyboard tucked under his arm as they meet Iwaizumi and Oikawa hand in hand at the train station, Oikawa smiling brightly and waving at them. As Kuroo and Oikawa start bickering light-heartedly and trading lewd anecdotes, Daichi exchanges tired glances with Iwaizumi – who now knows about the whole  _I'm in love with our mutual friend_  stuff – while Bokuto follows with two suitcases full of filming equipment, mostly for lighting and sound-recording.

Yaku's flat is amazingly big for a college student living alone, but it's mostly because his parents often are overseas for work, and the apartment is therefore not technically his. They get to work almost immediately, since they'll probably spend all day filming, Kuroo tells Oikawa, and Bokuto and Daichi help installing all the equipment while Yaku makes tea for everyone. Oikawa does his own makeup – a skill he apparently picked from all of his former girlfriends – and once they're all finished, they close all the curtains and shutters, because it's a horror story and so it needs to be at night to give a feeling of enclosure, Kuroo argues. The first scene is Oikawa talking on Skype with a girl, who asks him to have a video call, and when the camera doesn't work, Oikawa must see instead something like himself going completely crazy; Daichi wonders if Kuroo even has the editing skills necessary for that kind of effect, but chooses not to ask. Iwaizumi plays the girl, obviously, and is forced to change his Skype nickname and picture, in which Kuroo takes way more joy than necessary.

The day is overall busy, and even Daichi himself is tasked to help with lighting, or positioning the tripod in the right place, or holding the microphone boom. Oikawa winds up being a pretty decent actor, perfectly answering each of Kuroo's stage directions, and the only reason they film the scene several times is when Kuroo doesn't quite manage to translate his idea for a frame onscreen – when he films, Daichi realizes, he grows into a perfectionist director, never harsh on his actors or crew but always self-conscious of his own skills and abilities, cold-hearted blames seeping out of his mouth, teeth gnawing on lips in concentration, frown creasing his forehead and eyes flickering incessantly in constant observation of the littlest detail. Daichi apparently loves Serious Kuroo as much as he does Cunning, Teasing Kuroo.

Oikawa's acting becomes better as the day goes and his character grows more unhinged, although he pouts when he learns they have to film a shower scene because it'll ruin his hair, and Iwaizumi ruffles it up so that he has nothing to complain about anymore. Yaku has incredible patience, even when they end up using all the hot water because Oikawa keeps getting water in his mouth when he has to speak a few lines to himself. The final scene is heart-wrenching: Oikawa ends up sacking the bed in Yaku's guest bedroom, screaming and panting and crying but laughing right afterwards when Kuroo says “cut”, before crying and wailing again when he has to fake-call the emergencies to confess his murder with a close-up on his gloriously pained face, wild chestnut curls fanning undone over his eyes. It feels real, too real, and as Iwaizumi shifts uncomfortably, Daichi wonders how many times he had to deal with a Oikawa in pain through the years.

 

They're blessedly allowed to sleep in on the second day, since Bokuto needs less footage than Kuroo, but they're still tired as they make their way to Yaku's apartment again. It's only the three of them this time, since Iwaizumi and Oikawa didn't need to be there and chose to continue sleeping at the dorm instead.

“I hope they do all their dirty things while we're not here,” Kuroo sighs. “I didn't come back yesterday at 11pm so that they'll ruin my night tonight.”

“How the hell does he have a day off on Mondays and we don't?! This is unfair. I should have gone to Miyagi.”

“You wouldn't have got with Akaashi so fast if that was the case,” Daichi snarks.

“Shit, you're right. I don't know how to feel about that.”

Kuroo yawns as an answer, while Daichi flicks the pages of Bokuto's storyboard. The music video will cut between Daichi and another girl named Yuriko walking in the street from the train station, with several close-ups on their hands holding their suitcases – the same one the filming equipment is in again – or themselves checking their phones, and Kuroo and a girl called Chiaki busying themselves getting ready in Yaku's flat, until their respective love interests open the door and throw themselves in their arms. Nothing too complicated, Daichi wonders, and he'll probably be able to pull off the hugging thing easily. Probably. He doesn't want to think about it.

The two girls from Bokuto and Kuroo's class wave them hello when they arrive to Yaku's building – both very pretty, Daichi remarks, one with long dark hair reaching almost the small of her back and a huge bag on her shoulder, who introduces herself as Yuriko, and a smaller one, Chaiki then, with short brown hair cut in a bob and pretty green eyes. Once they're all seated in Yaku's living room, they all start prepping both the living-room and the bathroom and bedroom for filming: for Kuroo, it'll mean knowing where are the pans and dishes and candles so that he'll pretend to cook, and for Chiaki, it's getting all of her clothes and her makeup out of Yuriko's huge bag. Yuriko herself does Kuroo's light makeup, and the boy looks relaxed, almost pleased, as she fans out some foundation and powder over his face. Daichi wonders how Kuroo's face looks up close.

The girls start, because it was one of Daichi's conditions to participate to this whole thing to begin with, so that he can take some cues from their way of acting while he observes in the background. Bokuto is a completely different type of director than Kuroo: he retains his cheerful mood, and even cracks some jokes while he shoots, which often leads to Chiaki bursting out in laughter and having to undo her previous makeup to reshoot the scene. Bokuto's video is obviously way more light-hearted than Kuroo's, what with his stage directions asking the girl to twirl around in her dress and pout and smile softly, lovingly, a whole different level of expressiveness than Oikawa's distress and horror. He ends up putting the song in the background, fast-paced and bright and inspiring, so that they can get the exact mood he wants to convey, and Daichi finds himself bobbing his head along a few times. When the time comes to Yuriko to enter and hug Chiaki, he films her smiling coyly at the girl behind the camera range, a soft smile full of joy and sunshine and  _love_ , before Bokuto repositions himself to shoot the hugging scene.

“Aaaaand... Action!”

Yuriko takes a running start before kissing Chiaki full on the mouth.

Daichi stares nonplussed at Kuroo, who stares back, before they slowly turn to the girls still making out under Bokuto's appreciative comments, before turning to look at each other once again and groaning simultaneously. Daichi hides his furious blush with a hand on his face, while Kuroo nervously cards his hand through his wild hair.

“This is even better than what I expected,” Bokuto congratulates Yuriko, who sends a wink Daichi's way.

It looks weird to have Kuroo pretend cooking when he doesn't even know how to boil eggs properly, Daichi wonders as Kuroo does his best not to burst out laughing when he brings a wooden spoon to his lips. Yaku's sarcastic comments each time he messes up don't help, really, and Daichi even joins him on the effort a few times, falsely praising him for not fucking up the sauce, which brings a concealed smile to Kuroo's face that Daichi enjoys immensely.

When they're done, the sun has started to dip down, and Bokuto warns them that Daichi must work fast on the hugging scene or they won't have time to finish the whole thing. It still takes at least fifteen minutes until Daichi feels comfortable enough not to look constipated each time Bokuto says “Action”. When Bokuto judges that he's got a decent lovesick gaze out of him, Daichi places himself at one end of the living room, while Kuroo's propped against the dining table, all set up as if for a romantic dinner, and when Kuroo smirks defiantly, Daichi grins back and throws himself in his arms. The hug is warm, and Daichi feels light-headed, burying his head in the crook of Kuroo's neck and breathing the perfume there as if he hasn't breathed in years, and Kuroo smells of wood and spice and perfection. Kuroo tightens his grip a little, before Bokuto screams cut and the awkwardly take a step back, the nonexistent distance between them just seconds before now changing into what feels like miles.

Bokuto hums. “That won't do.”

“Want us to do it again?” Kuroo asks.

“Nah,” Bokuto answers, “it's not it. It'll be strange if Yuri-chan and Chiaki-chan kiss but you two don't.”

Silence stretches for a while as Yuriko and Yaku snicker in the background, Chiaki throwing them a compassionate smile. Daichi glances at Kuroo, who's now back to being almost purple in embarrassment, but who looks at him with questioning, open golden eyes. Daichi walks back to the other side of the room, slowly,  _lights, camera, action_ , and his chest feels like it's about to burst as he awkwardly powerwalks to where Kuroo is standing. They look at each other for what seems like hours, before Daichi wraps a hand around Kuroo's cheek– and Kuroo snorts, and the snort turns into full-on laughter as Daichi flushes crimson, but soon Daichi starts laughing too, all the pressure leaving his chest and lungs with each exhale and exclamation, and the whole room laughs as well, Yaku shaking his head as if he's seen this a hundred times before, and Kuroo collapses in crying laughter on Daichi's shoulder and Daichi finds him perfectly stupid and perfectly annoying and perfectly _perfect_.

Daichi slides his hand back on Kuroo's cheek, and Kuroo leans in and kisses him, lips pulling lips and nose brushing nose and cold fingers against too warm cheeks, and Daichi fears that the table against which Kuroo's propped is going to collapse as Kuroo pulls him in by the waist and Daichi tangles his other hand in Kuroo's hair.

“Aaaaand cut!” Bokuto's voice rings like a bell, and Daichi and Kuroo pull apart way too fast for his liking, both red to the neck but still snorting and chuckling like kids caught doing something they shouldn't be doing.

“That was perfect,” Chiaki praises behind them, and Daichi thinks  _yes, yes it was_.

 

*

 

Their first college Halloween party is almost a disaster.

Almost.

It includes, mostly but not exhaustively: Kuroo dressing as something called “Netflix and chill” with a Netflix t-shirt and a bag of ice in his arms, while he stares provocatively at everyone who dares look his way; both Bokuto and Oikawa insisting to Akaashi and Iwaizumi they come in couple costumes, which ends up with Bokuto and Akaashi as Bella Swan and Edward Cullen – respectively, Daichi had to sprinkle sparkles over Akaashi himself under the other's dead and resigned glare – and Oikawa and Iwaizumi as a stylish robber heavily inspired by Kaito Kid and a cop; Oikawa joking they'll use Iwaizumi's handcuffs later that night among other things; Daichi forced to spend time with Ushijima, whom Oikawa brought along “out of pity” because he doesn't want to admit he actually enjoys hanging out with the guy; all of them having way too much to drink; Ushijima ending up dragging Daichi on a table to dance and Daichi not giving a single fuck about this; Daichi receiving a text from Suga praising his dance moves; Oikawa giving Iwaizumi way too many winks and ass grabs; Kuroo winning the blackjack tournament this time with his weight in alcohol as a prize, to be spent on their future nights out; Akaashi dragging Bokuto in the bathroom in the middle of the night after an intense grinding session on the dancefloor; too many people avoiding the men's bathroom for the next thirty minutes; Akaashi and Bokuto being forcefully dragged out by the bouncer who threatens to call the cops if they don't leave by the minute; Ushijima disappearing mysteriously; Daichi being hit on by a particularly awful guy at the bar; Kuroo dumping his whole bag of melted ice on the guy's head from behind; the guy trying to fight Kuroo; Daichi punching the guy; Daichi and Kuroo being thrown out by the bouncer too before Oikawa and Iwaizumi join them out and they all go back to the dorm.

An hour after going to bed, Daichi is woken up by a quiet knock at the door. He rises clumsily and steps over his discarded clothes before opening the door to an obviously tired Kuroo, all dark circles and hollow cheeks and stupid tank top, and he guesses it's payback for the time he did the same thing and steps back to let Kuroo in as Oikawa lets out a high-pitched moan two doors down.

“You're my savior. The moans I could accommodate with, but– the  _rattling_ , God, the rattling.” He gets a sticky note from Daichi's desk and writes “never letting Iwaizumi have handcuffs again” before placing it gently on Daichi's laptop screen.

“You know I only have a single bed, right?”

“Don't worry, I'll be like a cat. Curling up on your feet and playing with them in the morning to wake you up.”

“I'm not even awake enough to guess if this is kinky or just plain gross.”

Kuroo groans as he crashes on the bed. “My head's going to hurt so much tomorrow.”

Daichi pushes him with a cold feet, which manages to send Kuroo scooting over against the wall and glare at him in betrayal. Daichi only rolls under the covers, Kuroo by his side, way too close for comfort, on his stomach.

“Aren't you cold?”

“Nah. I'm not really used to sleep with a blanket anyway.” Kuroo inches his foot to Daichi's cold one, and it's impressively warm. “See? Though it's no wonder  _you_ 're cold if you keep letting your feet hanging out.”

Daichi only closes his eyes and grumbles good night, and Kuroo's warmth and shallow breaths so close to him make him shiver even more.

When he wakes up the morning after, Kuroo's face is half-turned towards him, long, black eyelashes fanning over his face, drawing longs shadows in the bright morning light, skin paler than Daichi's own. Daichi wants to reach out and touch him. He carefully inches his hand through his hair, remembering how soft it was that day when they had kissed for Bokuto's short movie. It still is, straight and silky and standing up in all places and none at once, and Daichi wants to kiss him again, wants to kiss him breathless and panting and bruising, wants to kiss him slow and sweet and soft–

Kuroo opens golden eyes soft with sleep as he stretches, and Daichi takes out his hand as if burned.

“Morning, Daichi,” Kuroo whispers, voice coarse and rough.

 

*

 

Kuroo decides to throw his birthday party in the pub down their street.  _A simple affair, really_ , with all of Nekoma's team plus Yaku and Kai, and of course some people from his cinema major, plus some people who happened to stumble on their little party – all in all, almost fifty people are there to drink and celebrate.

“You know, it's always the large parties which are the most intimate,” Kuroo grins to his roommates, shots in hand. “In small parties, you can't talk about anything.”

“Could you stop paraphrasing the movies we have to study?” Bokuto quips.

“Wow, did you just use the word 'paraphrasing'? How much have you drunk already, bro?”

“I'm absolutely capable of handling polite and leveled conversation.”

“It's a dare Akaashi put him to,” Iwaizumi helpfully supplies, and Daichi snorts.

Daichi spends the rest of the night speaking with the Nekoma players, as well as Yuriko and Chiaki, who come say hello. Kozume and Akaashi spend the night together too, which sends Bokuto into a dejected state until Akaashi kisses his cheek and whispering God knows what in his ear. Daichi looks at the small bag next to him, his and Bokuto's and Iwaizumi's birthday present to their friend: a polaroid camera. Kuroo had walked by a camera store not long ago on his way back to their common class, and had stared at it for at least five entire minutes, and Kuroo's eyes didn't sparkle, but Daichi was pretty sure they would have otherwise. The camera itself was a pretty thing, black and curvy and delicate, with a stripe of red and a stripe of gold on the side, and Daichi was sure it would fit Kuroo like a velvet glove. Of course, they had included films on the side, so that Kuroo didn't have to buy his own, or at least not the first time he would use the camera.

As people start clearing out, Daichi realizes he doesn't see Kuroo anywhere anymore. Kozume and most of his team have left, so Bokuto and Akaashi are nuzzling each other in one of the booths, while Iwaizumi is probably outside calling Oikawa. Daichi takes the small bag, and heads outside.

The November breeze is chilly and fresh on his flushed skin, as he tucks a scarf close to his throat. The night sky is clear, but he can see no stars, Tokyo's heavy pollution blocking out everything but the moon; however, Daichi is quite sure it would be a beautiful night for stargazing, if he was back in Miyagi. He sighs, and the condensation that fills the air in front of him draws curls of white smoke dissolving almost immediately.

“It's sad we never see any stars in Tokyo,” Kuroo wonders aloud from the ground, sitting against the wall.

“Yeah. I'm sure the sky is amazing in Miyagi.”

“Do you miss it?”

Daichi glances down to the other boy, who's only staring at the moon. “Not at all.”

Kuroo smiles softly before rising and dusting off his thighs. “Well, I know a place where you can see stars, Sawamura.”

“If this is another of your innuendos, it isn't really appealing.” Except it is, a lot, but Kuroo doesn't need to know.

“Eh, at least I tried,” Kuroo snickers. “Although I  _really_  know a place where you can see them.”

Daichi hums thoughtfully. “Where?”

“Wanna see?”

Kuroo grins with clever eyes and sharp smug smile. Daichi wants to feel its edge against his throat.

Instead, he follows Kuroo to the rooftop of their residence.

“There's a guy on our floor who studies astronomy, and who settled a telescope here,” Kuroo supplies when he opens the door to the roof. The air is almost chillier here, and the breeze blows softly through Kuroo's hair.

“For real? I don't even know those guys' names, they're never here.”

“Maybe it's us who never are.”

“Point taken.”

Kuroo bends to look into the device, careful hands moving it through the night sky, silent as he stares for a while. Then he takes a step back, and shrugs at Daichi to come take a look. When Daichi closes an eye and looks through, all he sees is a sea of bright stars, blinking white and pale and gold, and it's even more breathtaking than the first night he went stargazing with his little sister when he was ten and they laid on the riverbank. For a while, he feels at home.

When he steps back, Kuroo stares, expression unreadable, pale skin made paler still with the moonglow, golden eyes dulled dark but sharp as ever, before he turns around and goes down the stairway. Daichi follows him, surprisingly calmer than before, small bag still resting in his hand.

Kuroo stops in front of his door.

“I'm probably going to go to sleep, I'm way too tired.”

“Told you it was a bad idea to host a party on a friday night, especially after your whole week of hard work.”

Kuroo snorts. “Thanks,  _daddy_.”

“Ooh,  _kinky_.” Kuroo laughs again this time, a light, airy laugh Daichi only heard once before.

“I– well,  _we_  have something for you.” Daichi averts his gaze as Kuroo takes hold of the small package and opens it.

“You're kidding.”

“Are not.”

“Oh my god. Sawamura– You– How much did this even cost?!”

Daichi only shrugs as he looks back to Kuroo. A soft pink is peppering his high cheekbones, and it only looks more vibrant in the darkness of the hallway. Long, deft fingers take hold of the camera and turn in around, caressing the edges like a lover. When Kuroo raises soft, fond eyes to him again, Daichi turns around to enter his own bedroom.

“Happy birthday. Goodnight.”

“Daichi.”

Kuroo is using his captain voice, the one Daichi likes a lot, but it seems more hushed, more gentle. Daichi turns around slightly, and Kuroo sighs heavily, before taking a sharp breath.

“Remember that dare I had to give you months ago?”

“Are you serious right now?”

“I've never been more serious in my life.”

Daichi freezes, but he feels goosebumps crawling and fuzzing restlessly against his skin, and he feels both like a stone sinking in the ocean and like fire rising in cold winter air.

“What do you want?”

Kuroo smiles, soft like velvet. “Kiss me.”

Daichi crosses the hallway and buries his fingers in Kuroo's hair as he crashes their mouths together.

It's nothing like their first kiss more than a month ago. It's desperate, overwhelming, like the first intake of breath you take after being underwater for too long, like coming back home after years traveling the wild world, and Daichi doesn't know if he pushes Kuroo against the door or if Kuroo pulls him in – all he knows is Kuroo's lips on his, teeth biting, fingers digging in hair and nails scraping waist, and Kuroo smiles as he breaks the kiss, but Daichi kisses him again, softer this time,  as Kuroo now strokes the soft skin under Daichi's shirt as if he's never touched anything more precious before, and he moans when Daichi sweetly pulls on his hair. They kiss again, and again, and again, open-mouthed and smiling, all gentle grazes of tongue against tongue and teeth against skin, all sighs of relief and chuckles of happiness, and Kuroo grins cheekily against Daichi's mouth as he opens his door and they almost fall into his bedroom.

 

*

 

On New Year's Eve, Daichi and Kuroo walk to the Sumida river hand in hand.

Iwaizumi has gone back to Miyagi for Christmas and the New Year, so there's just the two of them, plus Bokuto and Akaashi who ran off somewhere to buy some sweets before the fireworks start. Children are running around, chasing kites, dressing in yukatas even though they're only going to the shrine tomorrow; students like them are drinking on the riverbank; couples of all ages and gender stare at the water rippling beautifully under the city lights, heads over shoulders. Kuroo is right, Daichi thinks: the most intimate places truly are those where there are the most people.

Kuroo's warm hand tightens around his own as he draws him under a tree, and they sit here, texting Bokuto so that they'll find them again if they wish so, doubting they will, hoping they won't. Kuroo takes a picture of the river with his polaroid, the sound of the shutter clicking almost as familiar to Daichi as his boyfriend's breathing now, what with the plenty of photos he has taken over the last month, often of anything he stumbles upon, even more often of Daichi himself, sometimes even of the two of them. Kuroo waits for the polaroid to develop as Daichi watches him, slim jaw and high cheekbones, pale skin and red lips, faint dark circles and golden irises burning like the candles in Daichi's room.

“I love you,” Kuroo whispers without even glancing at him, and Daichi feels warmer.

“I love you, too.”

“No, but really. I really, really love you.” Daichi laughs before Kuroo pushes a small packet in his hands.

“Happy birthday,” he whispers again, as if sharing the most dangerous, beautiful secret – and maybe they do, Daichi wonders as he opens the card sitting on top and sees Kuroo's thin, sharp handwriting.

_To new beginnings._

The countdown starts, and Daichi puts the small packet in his bag as he takes Kuroo's hand.

“You're not gonna open it?” Kuroo asks nonplussed as he pouts.

“It can wait. I've got everything I want here.”

Their noses brush as they close the distance between them, and his hand caresses Kuroo's throat, the echoes of the fireworks overhead matching the pace of their heartbeats.

**Author's Note:**

> Some trivia you should know:  
> \- the two girls in Bokuto's video were at first supposed to be Yachi and Kiyoko, but it would have been to unrealistic, so i scrapped that.  
> \- the "Legendary Mario Kart" game is a game some of my friends invented and that i truly played, and yes, it's as ruthless as it sounds. Violet-flavored vodka is also the drink we use for that game, because we all like it, but there's also a bottle of something like a 50-year-old alcohol involved called the "Legendary", and with which we must do a shot under certain conditions, hence the name of the game.  
> \- Kuroo's video for the Infatuation assignment is completely inspired by a video called "Leave me alone" and published on a Youtube channel called Black Box TV - go check it out, it's awesome!  
> \- Bokuto's second assignment is set on the song "The Wolf" by Mumford and Sons, while Kuroo's first assignment on little things is set on "Wilder Mind".  
> \- Kuroo's tank top is totally a doge tank top sorry not sorry  
> \- Kuroo did manage to make Daichi laugh during class one day, and Iwaizumi who didn't know what to do blamed a laughing gas they had allegedly breathed the night before during a party lmao  
> \- Bokuto got a better grade at his "Infatuation" assignment, although by only 1%. Kuroo blames Oikawa.  
> \- i dare you to find every instance in this fic where Kuroo is obviously making innuendos and pining over Daichi and Daichi remains oblivious (spoiler alert: there's a lot of them)
> 
> I plan to make a Kuroo pov because i want to write him PINING SO MUCH im awful  
> also there definitely will be a iwaoi sidefic which will show how they got together, and if im not lazy, a bokuaka one :)


End file.
